


The Cost of One Letter

by Gigi



Series: Letter 'Verse [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Community: wintercompanion, F/M, M/M, Slash, Slashy, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi/pseuds/Gigi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto writes The Doctor a letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Winter Companion(lj) Bingo card.   
> I own nothing.

9 July, 2009.

Dear Doctor,

There are some times I really do not like you; there are times when I know he is looking at me but he sees only you. He loves you. It's a large part of him. He has had so many lovers but no one has left a mark on him like you have. I wish I could say that I would be with him forever. But we both know that for Jack that is a very long time.

I look at him and see this man who is wonderful but also just a little bit broken. He came back to me just a little more so after he was off with you. Yet, he still lights up when he speaks your name. This tells me that I cannot afford to hate you. Because if I do, I won't be able to do what I have to do.

You will ask yourself what it is that I have to do: well, I have to tell Jack that it is okay that he wants you. I have to tell him that he needs you when I am gone. He does, he does need you and from what I can tell, Doctor, you need him as well. You need someone who gives a damn about you.

I **hate** the idea of Jack alone. Of him having no one that will be there when he finally decides it's okay to let someone in his heart. He's figured out how to put all these bars around it; a wall of stone that he says he learned from someone. I believe that someone was you.

When he doesn't think anyone is watching, he looks up to the sky with such a yearning that it is heart-breaking. He misses being out there, doing what he was once doing with you. I think he left a part of himself out there with you. A part no-one will get to know until he finds it again.

He wants you even when he has so much here and that just hurts. But I've hurt him myself as well. I don't know why you haven't come, or why he keeps calling you when you haven't picked up once. But we needed you, we needed you to be here. To help. I am not sure if we still need you, because Jack has a plan. I do not know how many of us will make it out of this. That's why I am writing this. Because someone has to tell you about the man who loves you.

I don't know if you love Jack, if you care about him, but I am almost ready to beg you to try. Just try to look at him and see how he looks at you. Try to feel what he's not telling you. Jack is the kind of person whose eyes speak more than his words. He'll tell stories that are meaningless but with one look he can tell you how he feels.

The 456 are going to leave him yet a little more broken. And if I am not here to help in putting him back together, I have to hope that you will be. I have to hope that you will get your head out of your arse and come to him. He won't tell you he needs you. More than likely he will try to walk away.

Don't let him go.

Don't let him tell you that he doesn't need you. Don't let him brood and face the pain by himself. I do not believe that my death will be the thing to hurt him most, but all of this, all of this at once will be. When we lost Tosh and Owen he drank his pain, pushing it down so far that it only spilled out in his dreams. He cries sometimes in his sleep. It's painful to watch.

But there are good nights, nights when he smiles. Oddly enough I think he's dreaming of you, even if I wish with my whole heart that he were dreaming of me. Doctor, I know this is not mine to ask of you -- but if I do not, who will?

I do not know when this letter will find you, but I do know that time means nothing, that you will get it. I was told that it will happen, it doesn't matter by who, and I can only hope that when you do, you'll read it and come find Jack.

Or maybe just fucking call? Reach out to him. Please.

Remember **you** might not be human, with human feelings or the need to love someone, but Jack **is** , and he has chosen you for all that's fucking worth.

Please, Doctor. Take care of him.

-I. Jones


	2. Part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ianto does something, he does it a little too well.   
> or   
> A meeting of old friends.

The soft clinking of glasses, the loud drunken laughter, and the off key music of the bar marked it all as home for Jack. It had been home for the past few weeks. He knew he was fucking up; he knew that drinking away memories never worked, but he needed that haze the drinks brought. He needed that clear moment when he would be so drunk he couldn't remember anything. He had tried losing himself in sex, losing himself in the smell of female and male bodies pressed up to him in pleasure. But that only brought back the memories, only held them so close that he'd nearly gotten sick when the salty taste of the last man's come filled his mouth.

So now he'll stick to the taste of the cheap drinks he could buy, he'll pour them into himself until it's filled him so completely that there is nothing. He heard the chair next to him be pulled out and knew someone was sitting down but didn't bother to look up. "Sorry, I'm closed for the night. Come back later."

"I think you have time for me, Jack." The voice shot something through Jack that he didn't even know he still had. That feeling of Joy, that feeling of Hope. His eyes trailed away from his drink to move up to the Doctor's face -- his **first** Doctor's face.

"Doc?"

"Oh you're not so drunk you've forgotten about me, are you?" the cross tones were like bliss to Jack; it was like coming home. But he drew back knowing that this Doctor even if he'd always be the first one that Jack loved, was not here for him. He was looking for his younger self and had thought that Jack was him.

"I'm not your Jack," he answered, his voice felt so flat and lifeless. As he raised his glass to his lips, the Doctor pulled it from his hand.

"Like hell you're not: You'll always be mine, lad." He couldn't suppress the shudder of pleasure that went through him at the Doctor's words; they were something he wanted to hear, needed to hear.

He wasn't sure if they were true, he smiled that smile he used when everything was bad but a smile was what you really needed, "Thanks, but I meant that I'm a little older than the Jack you're traveling with, Doc; he might be waiting for you where you think he should be." He nodded his head towards the door trying to get the Doctor to take the hint.

"No, he and Rose are off having themselves a little bit of nice and safe fun on this lovely little retreat; even already checked on them. You're the one I'm here to see, seeing hows I got a letter that you'd need me." The Doctor pushed the cup out of Jack's reach nearly knocking the glass off the table.

"Letter?" Jack's face fall, what letter would the Doctor have gotten. He didn't remember writing one, nor did he remember ever hearing the Doctor talk about a letter before. He could remember the retreat, how he and Rose spent the day being pampered and relaxing. It was right after they had spent the day running for their lives. It was the first that wasn't out of the norm, but Rose and he ended up getting to know each other so much better, became better friends because of that day. There were even little inside jokes the Doctor'd used to grumble about not being able to understand, after that day.

"Yes, seeing how someone loved you enough to write it, I thought I should show up and check on you. And what do I find? You sitting here drinking yourself to death." Jack couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped out of his mouth at the Doctor's words, the hand at the back of his head hurt, it hurt really good. It was the first real touch that meant anything of late.

Selling himself to buy his drinks, that touch was always cold and meaningless, that touch was something to keep Jack in practice if he ever found someone in his bed that he might really want to share it with. But this touch, the Doctor's hand flat against his head smacking some sense into him. Even with the pain it vibrated through him making him moan ever so sightly. "Doctor." He whispered the other man's name, his eyes locking on him, his eyes a mixture of those feelings that swamped him. That ate him alive.

The Doctor was giving him a look as if he were trying to understand something, trying to see past Jack right down deep into his soul. Jack knew what he was seeing, Jack was a Fact, something the Doctor had said in the past was something painful to be around. Something the Master had driven into Jack's head was a bad thing. Jack was starting to hate all facts, because facts led to being here in a bar drinking yourself silly.

The Doctor reached over and ran a finger down across Jack's neck, touching like you would if you thought something would burn you. The rush of air that came from the next breath that came from him made Jack sit a little straighter, his pants feeling all the more tighter. "Oh lad, what have you done to yourself? What is this now? All full of the vortex aren't you?" Jack wasn't sure if he should answer or not, not sure if the Doctor was talking to him or himself.

"I can't tell you..."

"Shhh, Captain, no need to explain; just let me have a look at you, let me feel what it is. Nothing to worry about; I'm here now." The Doctor's voice was smoothing him over, washing over him and making him sit still. The way that the Time Lord looked at him made feel special, important, but only because the Doctor seemed to care about him. He wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him what he will do.

Yet, this was the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the man who had to burn his own people. Somehow the Doctor might understand. A small bit of him hoped that he would. That he could speak about his grandson, all the other children, about his team and his brother, about everything and the Doctor would understand.

"Come on Captain," the Doctor soothed, pushing him up out of his chair, "Let's get you back to the TARDIS and get you all cleaned up." He pulled Jack to him, reminding the Captain just how strong he was.


	3. Part 2

Something was very wrong with Jack.

The drinking did not give it away; he had seen Jack forget himself and have one hell of a hang over the next day. The Vortex energy, though it was interesting, wasn't it either. (And how that tickled at him, making his body vibrate such that he pulled Jack close, his face nearly in Jack's neck.) It was that Jack had not once tried to make a pass at him, not once let his hand slip down the curve of his back to rest just above his arse. Someone had hurt his Jack and they were going to pay for it.

He hated that spark of life was missing that it just wasn't there; it had been one of the things that pulled the Doctor towards Jack. That made the Doctor love having him, having him? No, not having him, having him around. The Vortex energy was doing things to his head. How did this happen to Jack?

Fear rattled around in his head as he propped Jack up on a wall to take a short break. He should have parked closer...

"Doc.. We're crossing timelines, this isn't safe." Jack's face fell onto his shoulder; lips pressed to the leather.

"No drooling on my coat, Jack...and it's fine, I know what I'm doing, I'm the Time lord after all." He put his hand on the back of Jack's neck to move his head so that he could look into Jack's eyes. They filled with a sadness and pain he had only seen in his own.

"I'm not going to drool; I missed this coat... Missed you." He wondered how long it had been for Jack, when had been the last time they'd seen each other. Did this mean that his time in this face was going to be short? He was after all just getting used to it. He couldn't think of that now, not with Jack standing there basically in his arms, crying out to him for something he wasn't sure about.

What was it about Harkness that made the Doctor ache just a bit, that made him, the man who ran from most things, want to dive in instead of away. Looking into Jack's eyes was like looking into the Vortex when he was only but a child on his first face. His lips parted to say something but when Jack pulled him close all that happened was his lips meeting Jack's.

The kiss was hungry, Jack was trying to really taste him, to pull him apart until there was nothing left. The feeling of life just filled him until there was nothing but it. His own body reacted like it was on fire. Yet, he wanted more, he wanted to push Jack until he was pushed almost into the wall, until their bodies and minds were one.

"Oi! Hey! What are you doing to _my_ Jack?"


	4. Chapter 4

The truth of the matter was that after he read the letter (which would be the second time, as although the first time he tried to make himself forget, something slipped through), he didn't go anywhere at first. Because he was afraid.

He didn't like to say he was afraid; he didn't like to think that he, the Oncoming Storm, could be afraid. Even more, being afraid of Jack was like being afraid of a well-loved pet. At least that is what he tried hard to view the Captain as.

If he was completely honest with himself, he didn't know how he felt for him. There was the budding of something when they first met. Rose had held them together and made them feel like they were a part of each other. He had been too raw, too cut thin to really have something with anyone. Then after he ran, (to get Rose to safety, he told himself), he knew that being around Jack would have changed him in ways he wasn't ready for.

There was also the fact that a lot of him was screaming that Jack was wrong. (He could have worded it a little better when he told Jack, but that was neither here nor there.) He was wrong because as a Time Lord, a Fixed Point would itch under your skin. You would want to get away from it but also there was something about being so close to it. It was like being drugged, like feeling the Vortex all over again for the first time.

No one ever would forget their first time.

He read the letter twelve times. First time, barely seeing the words -- just feeling the slap that it felt across his face. The other times, trying to see if he'd missed something. When the strange half-memories came back to him, he knew he had to go. But still he did nothing.

The TARDIS buzzed at him. She really did have an opinion. She was making sure to tell him. She wanted him to go. She wanted him to go see Jack and it felt like he was supposed to. "I don't know," he had said, talking to her; "I don't know if he would really want to see me."

One should never anger a TARDIS. A TARDIS that liked changing her rooms around was really not good mad. She pressed at him, moving the rooms so that whenever he wanted to go find the kitchen or the bathroom or his bedroom he always walked into the Control room first.

"Fine! Fine! I don't know how _I_ feel, I am not sure if _I_ want to see Jack," he grumbled at her.

In the end however once he had enough time to think about it he felt that he should go find Jack. At least to check on him, to make sure things ended all right.

Mrs. Gwen Cooper-Williams told him everything.

He wished he knew nothing at all.

She had stood there babe in arms telling him about the 456 and how that had been the end of Torchwood 3. He nodded and listened, thanked her, but couldn't tell her why he couldn't come and stop it all. After what happened on Mars he knew that he had to follow some rules. His rules, the rules that life had taught him across its knee.

Tracking Jack hadn't been hard at all; in fact the half-memories led him to the planet, to where the bar stood. He could hear the music pouring out of it as he came to it. What the half-memories did not tell him or show him, was that Jack was going to be in someone's arms.

His arms, the him that Jack had first met. The way their bodies pressed to each other, the heat coming off them was almost too much to watch. He could remember the feeling of those lips pressed to his, the taste of the booze on Jack's lips. How he made him feel.

He felt jealous. That him had his own Jack. A Jack who was untouched by many things. Why would he kissing _His_ Jack. Truly it made no sense to anyone but him but there it was. That him was trying to steal his Jack. It wasn't right.

Something clicked in his head, almost like a dinner timer going off. "Oi! Hey! What are you doing to _my_ Jack?"


	5. Chapter 5

There were two Doctors.

The one holding him hadn't let go yet, which was nice, but there was also the one that sounded mad. Jack in his drunk haze wasn't sure what he had done wrong. Oh yes, _he_ was the one that was _wrong_. He pushed himself back on to the wall, not at all surprised that the younger Doctor did not let go of him. He was grateful; with the way his knees were feeling, he would have ended up kneeling in front of the other man. Not that that was a bad image. Hmm, two Doctors, this could be good if he could get the other Doctor, his other Doctor, not to be so mad.

"What do you mean, "your Jack"? Haven't really been taking care of him, have you?" The younger Doctor snapped at the elder.

"You have your own, where is he? Shouldn't you be with Rose?" the Tenth Doctor asked eying his younger self.

"Do I get a collar?" Jack asked thinking back on what the older Doctor said. If he belonged to him he should have a collar.

"What?" Both of the Doctor's asked at once looking at him as if they were shocked he was there. Maybe they thought they would be the ones to hash this out, but Jack had an opinion and he was going to say something...plus the idea of the collar was kind of nice, maybe a shiny black one with his name on the tag or something.

"You said I'm yours; does that come with a collar?" He tried to ask clearly, but it took a few tries to get it out right. He is very sure he said it half the other way around the first go. Or maybe that was just in his head because they seemed to understand. The Ninth Doctor pulled him closer, holding him so tight it almost hurt.

"No collars, Jack; I'm just not that kinky." The Tenth Doctor said as the Ninth snorted and muttered something under his breath.

Jack nodded which was a very bad idea because it made everything spin. He really shouldn't have drunk so much. Because now he was having a hard time tracking what was being said. It was like he was standing underwater.

"I'm here now, you can go." The Tenth Doctor was saying, moving towards them. The younger Doctor moved Jack a little too fast behind him, which sped up the spinning. He tried to tell the Doctor, but he was too busy yelling at himself.

"Oh? Like I am going to leave him to you; look at the state he is in." The state that Jack was in was going to end up all over the Doctor's shoes if he wasn't careful.

"I didn't get him drunk? What is he doing drunk? Jack doesn't drink." The Tenth Doctor looked at him more closely, as if to see what was going on in his head.

"I feel sick." Jack mumbled, trying to hold back the sick that was rising in him.

"Oh lad, none of that now. Wait until I get you back to the TARDIS."

"Oh...Well, you see that might not be a good idea. You might want to let me have him." The older Doctor was looking at him again -- in fact, he was much closer than he was a moment ago. Jack could just reach out and touch the Tenth Doctor's face. Just feel him there. Perhaps Jack was dreaming?

"I have a room nearby." He pulled himself away from the Doctor, using the wall to steady himself. The Doctors were too busy glaring at each other to really hear him. Jack sighed and took a few more lungfuls of air to get himself ready to go onward to his room. The cold air of the night was helping now to clear his head. If he kept his mind on a task then he could go on without dirtying anyone's shoes.

The Ninth Doctor glared at his younger self. "I don't know what you did, but you are going to fix it!" That was the last thing Jack heard as the Doctors turned to follow him, it was the last thing he heard as he stumbled his way to the flat that had been home for the past few weeks.

~~~

"You want to tell me how Jack got like this?" Nine asked his older self, his eyes hard-set as the walked towards Jack's rented room. Jack's idea of the room was more than likely best. There could be no mistakes there, someone pressing the wrong button or the TARDIS deciding they all need to go on a merry little trip to the 1400's.

"Can't really tell you can I? The timeline and all..." Ten tried to explain but Nine grunted at him, the anger in his eyes just burning hotter.

"Don't give me that bullshite," He pointed at Jack who was fighting with his keys to get into the door. "My Jack, Our Jack, shouldn't be hurting like that. He shouldn't have been left alone."

"We've left others before."

"That doesn't make it right!" Nine took the keys that had fallen on the floor next to Jack's feet to open the door for Jack, who gave him this goofy grin.

"Think I can buy you that drink now? Got something in my room." Jack chuckled to himself.

"No more drinking, Captain." Nine snapped.

"I don't know; I could go for a drink." Ten mumbled looking at Jack eying Nine's bottom. It really wasn't much of a bottom; why was Jack looking at it like that? Answer: He was Captain Jack Harkness.

There was a crash inside the room just around the time Nine pushed the door open. Ten pushed his way past Jack, to step in front of his drunk friend to look at the man inside. He was young looking and wear the dorkiest bow tie. He looked like he had stepped right out of an advert for some posh college, when in fact he more than likely stepped out of the TARDIS which was now standing tucked into the corner of Jack's room.

"Oh, you're late. Or maybe I'm late? I did have to stop off and get something first... But we're all here now, aren't we? Oh -- where's Jack?" Jack peeked out around the the Doctors to look at the new man. "Oh, there you are, Jack! I've got something for you!" He held out what looked like a strip of leather with something metal hanging from it.

“Oh, Hell; not another one,” Nine mumbled, pushing everyone into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, Hell; not another one,”

There were three Doctors.

One sitting on his bed, glaring at the other two. One standing by the window looking out, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. The last one -- well, he was standing there looking at Jack with a new grin, but it still looked the same to Jack and... He had that collar laid in his hand, offering it. It was almost too much for Jack; he couldn't take it. That’s why the _one_ Captain was in the bathroom with the door closed. Not locked, because he knew what locks meant to the Doctor.

Luckily, not one of them followed him into the room; he was alone. Alone with his thoughts and the toilet. Which was a kind, cool thing on his cheek which was laid upon it. The last of whatever was in his system had already been flushed away. What was he going to do? Why were they are all here? It didn't fit with his ideas of the Doctor.

Jack had truly thought that he had seen the last of him for a very long while. He knew that time and space weren't all that big, but unless all of time and space was close to coming to an end... No, he wouldn't be seeing the Doctor. Yet here he was, hiding in his bathroom away from the three of them.

He had to steel himself up (wash himself up) to deal with all three of them. He needed to be able to deal with whatever this was supposed to be. Oh, fucking Hell; one of them had a collar. A black leather collar that looked just like he'd thought it would. He could take that, he could take it and just let everything be fine for a long while. He could take it, and just wait for it all to slip away.

He missed being with the Doctor; missed the part of himself that would _jump_ , ready to do whatever the Doctor ordered. Being **his** Jack.

Jack needed to figure out just who he was; if who he was, was ready to go forth and cling to the TARDIS all over again. If he was ready to come home.

~~~~

"What are you, sixteen?"

Eleven raised an eyebrow. Why did people always ask that? He didn't look like he was underage, did he? Through he did wonder just how young his next face might look; he was wondering if he should worry about reaching the TARDIS controls.

There was no time for this.

"He shouldn't go with either of you. He should come with me," he said all at once. "He _needs_ to come with me."

"Why should I trust you with him? Look at what **this** idiot did to him." Nine all but growled looking at Ten, who turned and glared at himself.

"There's a lot you don't know about." Ten snapped back.

"Yes, but I know it all. Don't I? I know about everything." He looked at Nine, he had been filled with so much rage when he was him. Needing Rose and Jack to heal; needing Rose to smooth him out. Then the other him, his Tenth self. He'd had so much pain he had to work through. He needed to go work it out to become _him_. "You're his past," he said to Nine. "You shaped him to become the man he will always be. You helped him get on his feet. He can't go back. And you?" he said looking at Ten.

"Well you are his now, but he needs more than that. **You** need more than that. He needs to go forward because that is the only way he can heal from the now. We all are a part of Jack, but both of your times are done. It's my turn to take care of Jack and his turn to take care of me. Our Jack has grown into being a lot like us. He need someone who lived through it all. Who lived through having to burn his home and people, someone who had to live watching his loved ones go away. He needs someone who knows that there is _more_. I'm the next part in the circle."

He'd had a lot of time to think about this, and well, it helped that he'd heard it once before. He knew what was going to happen. He needed it as much as Jack.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready to let him go." Ten said sitting down in the chair next to the window.

"You have to. You have so much more to do, so much more to see." Eleven almost winced at the fear he saw in Ten's eyes: There was anger. Anger that was just misplaced fear. Oh, but he knew that about himself. He could remember how much he didn't want to go forward. Too happy at staying right where he was so that he wouldn't have to face what was to come. Always, always running, running away. It was a part of who he was after all.

"How much more time?" Ten asked, his tone bitter as he looked at his newer self. "Tell me."

"He can't tell you and you can't tell me." Nine said in one of his rare gentle tones. "That’s not how it's done."

"I'm sick of how things are always done! We're Time Lords. Lords of Time!" Ten stood up to walk across the room to the half bottle of booze on the dresser. Eleven got there first; his hand closing around the bottle.

"Really? I thought you would've had enough of that on Mars." It was a slap. He knew he was the one person that could hurt himself the most. Because he knew so much about himself. He'd already seen that.

"Well, that was..."

"A mistake that we can't do again. We'll make more mistakes, but not that one. Not ever again." Eleven moved the bottle out of reach for Ten, just as an hour ago, Nine had done for Jack. It hadn't been lost on Nine at all. He wanted to ask what happened on Mars but he knew better. The less he found out now the less he would have to try to forget later.

"I don't want to die." Ten half whispered to Eleven.

"We all have our time. That’s what I'm trying to say, Theta."

Louder, more clearly as he looked into his older self's face. Ten said, "Well, I can't leave without saying good-bye, can I?"

"So you're leaving then?" They all turned to look at Jack. "You just got here."

The three of them standing there before Jack made such a picture, Eleven was sure of it. He moved over to Jack, careful not to interrupt the eye contract Jack had with his Tenth self. This was important; they were saying goodbye. He knew the importance of that. "I'm leaving, but I'm staying."

"Doctor, that makes no sense at all."

"Yes, it does, Jack." He smiled, not his grin, but a smile because Jack needed to see him smile. he needed to see that he was still his Doctor. "Come sit down, Jack: We need to talk."

The few steps to the bed felt like a lifetime to take. A few steps that would lead them someplace better, the Doctor could only hope. He looked at his two past selves. Sighing as Jack sat down and he knelt down in front of the Captain. "I got this for you, Jack." He held out the collar which had lain safe in his pocket this whole time; a weight keeping him grounded, reminding him why he was doing this.

"If you put that on me Doctor and go away, I don't know what it will do." Jack didn't even want to touch it; he was scared of it. Of what it meant, of how it could mean he would give himself all over to the Doctor to only to find himself watching the TARDIS disappear again.

"It's not going on you Jack, I'm asking you to put it on me. I'm the one who keeps running away and getting lost." All but the one who was speaking were shocked at the words. Ten turned away, but Nine caught him before he got too far: Bearing witness to this was something they owed Jack.

"What are you asking, Doctor? I didn't think you were the marrying type." Jack's fingertips touched the collar, just brushing along the leather...touching the tag that read: _'The Doctor, if lost please return to Captain Jack Harkness.'_

"Someday, Jack, I just might ask you that. Right now, I'm just asking you to try with me now. To take this step with me. To come home." The words were what he wanted to hear. _Just_ what he wanted to hear. So a part of him didn't trust them at all. But looking into those eyes, he knew that he had to. Because it didn't matter how many times he did it, Jack would still die for his Doctor.

"Okay."


	7. Someday was Yesterday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all got started

He didn't really believe him at first when he came to him, telling him that he knew a way that he'd make sure the Doctor would come for Jack. There had been too many lies between them to really believe John Hart. There had been the fight beforehand about John staying to help, rather than just doing what he'd planned. But the man explained and explained that there were just some things in history that were set in stone...that even he wouldn't fuck with. _Couldn't_ fuck with.

"I'll show you...and I'll have you right back here before they know you're missing. That's the beauty of time travel, eye-candy." To Ianto's well trained ears it sounded like Hart was begging him -- that he needed to do this as much as Ianto needed to write the letter. They both owed Jack a great deal more than Jack would ever let them repay. Perhaps this was the only way they'd both get to see Jack happy.

It had always been painfully clear that John loved Jack. It wasn't the kind of love that was shown with flowers and candy; it was the kind you often saw with children. Teasing and pulling hair. Doing childish things because you didn't know how you felt, and why you felt that way. John being as he was just fed into that. Ianto wondered what kind of man Jack would have become if he'd stayed with Hart instead of meeting the Doctor, then later becoming the head of Torchwood 3.

When he finally agreed, Hart pulled him into his arms -- close enough to kiss. Ianto could feel John's heart racing, which proved to him that John had worried Ianto would turn him down. There was the fear that John was just going to lead Ianto to his death...take him somewhere to add to the problems his team was facing. Yet, some part of him needed to see that Jack was going to make it out all right.

The smell of saltwater hit his nose as the jerking feeling crashed over him. It felt as if his skin needed to resettle on his bones. If it weren't for Hart's arms around him, Ianto would be face-first in the purple sand that they landed on. "Where are we?" He wasn't given an answer, just pulled forcefully by the arm, down the beach.

"Shut up, eye-candy, and just watch -- we don't get much time here."

"I thought we had all the time in the world, time travel and all." John glared at him for his answer but it was worth it.

"There are _rules,_ " he half-mumbled, pulling Ianto with him.

"I've never known **you** to follow rules." He stopped short when saw where John was taking him. There on the beach before him, Jack was standing next to some man that Ianto just knew was the Doctor. He could clearly see the happiness on Jack's face. So much so that it almost hurt. "What is this?" He couldn't hide the fear laced through his words.

"Their joining day. Jack and his Doctor... Told you if you wrote the letter, the bastard would come for him, didn't I?" John was close to Ianto, his hand still holding his arm, the grip painful. Oddly enough it was just what Ianto needed to stay grounded, to remind himself why he was here. Yet there was a nagging feeling that he was missing something.

"Why?" he asked, looking at John, trying to understand.

"Because the Doctor bloody well asked him, didn't he? Looks so fucking happy, doesn't he." John answered watching the two men exchange what had to be rings, they were too small to be anything else.

"No. Why are you doing this? You aren't doing this for me, so it has to be for him. Is it because of Gray?" The look that John gave him while he formed the question could have been deadly all on its own. The other man's grip tightened; there would be marks Ianto would have to explain away later...

"No. It's because of Jack. Jack is the reason why we've all done things... When we were together, I never doubted anything. His fucking smile got me through so many fucking jobs. Then the shit hit the fan, didn't it? He didn't smile any more. I hate it when Jack doesn't smile. Even when it's not real, there's just something wrong about that." He spun Ianto around so that he was looking at him, studying him. "Then I fucked up his happy little family...by helping his brother." The anger in Hart's voice sent chills through Ianto. "He wasn't smiling...then when I saw him... _after_...there weren't any more smiles, so I had to fix it."

"I thought you said you _couldn't_ change things?"

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing, I know what I have to do. This doesn't fuck anything up, it fucking _fixes_ things. And if you don't write that fucking letter, the 456 is the least of your problems _eye-candy_." They stood there staring at each other, eyes locked on one another. The pain and hate for each other melting into an understanding.

Neither liked the other, but there were times when you had to allow that the other might be right. Ianto would write the letter, and John would make sure that the Doctor got it. Then Jack would end up _here,_ happy, not alone-and-not-smiling...like John had said he'd seen. That was worth it all, worth the fear of being forgotten. Worth the fear that the Doctor might very well one day hurt Jack.

He would give anything to see his Captain happy. He owed him that and so much more. He nodded and Hart's grip lessened, his eyes relaxed just slightly.

"Let's go...I have a letter to write."

And so he did.


	8. Doctor-in-the-box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd think that if you were going to lock someone up for all time, you would at least give them a book.

What the Doctor wouldn't give for a good word jumble. Just something to do, because counting had lost it's charm about two hundred years ago. You'd think that if you were going to lock someone up for all time, you would at least give them a book. Something to do with their mind so that they wouldn't lose it. If it he wasn't **him** he surely would have gone mad by now.

Maybe he had? There was that portion of yesterday when he'd thought his big toe was talking to him. Well, that was something to do, go mad, wasn't it? To be fair, though, he might've done that years ago when he was still outside of this blasted box. He'd truly had enough of this waiting and sitting around. Shouldn't Jack or Amy, Hell, even Rory be here by now? He would settle for Kosch opening the box to just laugh at him.

At least he still had his collar, the weight of it keeping him grounded. Jack would find him...even if it took him for-ever to do it!   
\--

Oh, he missed his hands, he missed Jack's hands, he missed anyone's hands. Just to touch him, to scratch him, hold him. He missed the way Jack would touch him just to make sure he was still there. The way he would stand so close the Doctor could smell him.

The Doctor was tired of smelling himself.

\---

He had forgotten what sound was like (other than his own voice) when the door finally came open. The light blinded him as well. Once he was finally able to open his eyes without the glint of the light hurting too much, the sight of Jack took its place. He had words, long words, to say to Jack. Words that always fell between, "I love you," and "Why the fuck did it take you so long to find me!?"

But instead the words that came out shocked them both... Really shocked them, and the Doctor thought they were the right ones.

"Marry me?"


	9. Stepping Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One little stone changes the timeline. One word erases. One letter can rewrite it.

Jack felt great!

The past few days with Rose had gone smoothly. They had bonded over being left at some silly retreat while the Doctor did something he wouldn't talk about. It was amazing how much tension the girl had been carrying around with her; he was glad to see her relax and melt. He'd had a few meltings of his own, while they were away from their Doctor. But now they were back on the TARDIS, and that right there was better than anything that could have happened on that planet.

Jack had just slipped away while Rose showed the Doc everything she bought. He loved clothes as much as the next guy, but he'd seen it all already. Plus, he could just use some time to feel the TARDIS all around him. It's amazing how much this ship has become home. There's just a sense of safety while he's within her walls. It's like she just wraps herself around him and nothing bad can happen while he is inside of her.

Or it could be the way he was feeling about the Doctor that added to that feeling of safety. The Doctor had been watching him while they re-boarded the TARDIS, keeping his eyes pressed to him like he thought Jack had done something to his sweet little Rose. Jack knew better than that; he would never hurt Rose. She was too important to the both of them. He honestly knew that if Rose had not been there when the Doctor had found him, things would have gone far differently.

If Rose was the kind of person the Doctor liked having around, then Jack was the least likely to get picked up. Rose also kept the Doctor's mood so light! She made him happy, which pleased Jack. He wasn't sure why it pleased him, why it made him happy, just that it did and that it was important. Jack wanted everything the Doctor had to offer...wanted to learn from him, wanted to be near him. Fuck it if he wasn't falling in love with the man. It's been a long time since he's fallen for anyone.

The last time had been his partner. They lived on the edge, depending on each other to stay alive. They'd even found themselves trapped in a time loop. There had been some really great moments but it was after all the bad things that happened during that loop that they'd stopped working together. It was also around that time that his memories were stolen from him. He teased himself with the idea of asking the Doctor to help find those memories, to help bring them back.

Risking it all and asking the Doctor for help and showing his weaker side. It was a good dream, to be able to find those memories, to see what he'd lost. Through he was scared of it too, scared he would find something that he wouldn't be able to handle. That he'd done something so bad, so cruel that it had to be taken away...or something happened to him that the only way to keep him sane was to take it all away. But they were his and he wanted them back. He needed them back...he could ask the Doctor. Jack let himself smile as he placed his hand on the wall next to him, letting his fingers brush over the smooth surface of the TARDS.

This was his home and he was in love with the Doctor. Amazing what a little alone time would have you thinking of, once you got started.

"Still flirting with _my_ ship, **Captain**?" As the Doctor spoke his breath brushed over Jack's neck. Somehow the Doctor had snuck up on him. All Jack had to do was lean back into him. Just one step and they would be pressed tightly together, back to front. Something Jack had thought about when he was alone in his room, wearing a lot less clothing than he was right now.

He couldn't bring himself to turn around and look at the Doctor: He wanted to be able to think about this moment later, to review it, to rewrite and enjoy it. Instead he started to caress the TARDIS the same way he wanted to do to the Doctor. He let his fingers fall over the wall and slowly linger back upwards again to the spot they would brush over. Touching the ship like he would a lover. "Can't help it, Doc; she's so damn nice."

It was the Doctor that stepped forward and pressed into him, just pressing him closer, but not touching the wall. Just enough space that he could still pet the wall in front of him. The air from the Doctor's lung's tickled at his senses, teasing him just like he was teasing the ship. The Doctor's lips were mere inches from his ear, brushing over it in an almost but not-quite kiss as he spoke. "Careful, Jack -- you might make me jealous."

"I wouldn't ever dream of doing that, Doc," he couldn't hide the airiness his voice took on, the desire that was filling him. He let himself relax back into the Doctor, trusting the Doctor, because he really couldn't do anything less with the Time Lord.

"You're forgetting I know you, Jack." The Doctor chuckled and it rattled through Jack, feeling the Doctor's chest move against his back and the sound playing through his ear, into him. His cock twitched. "You like making me jealous. You like it when I notice you. Jack, I've noticed."

That was it. His cock which had only been half hard was now fully hard: he was aching with it. His jeans were uncomfortably tight. The Doctor took away the words he was going to speak when the Doctor's hand copied the motion that Jack's had done to the TARDIS on Jack's chest. "I've noticed how you look at me." The kiss was pressed to the skin just behind Jack's ear. "Noticed how you take care of Rose, how you flirt, how you tease me." This time a small bite, as if the Doctor wanted to mark him. Fuck, but Jack wanted to be marked.

"I've noticed how you have become so much more than the man I met, Captain. I'm **proud** of **you**." The pleasure from those words shock Jack because it was almost enough to make him come and he hadn't gone off that easily since his early teens.

"Oh fuck, Doc..."

"Let me finish, Jack." The Doctor's other arm wrapped around him, pulling him close, tightly, making him feel safe and wanted. "You have become bigger on the inside, you have become more than I could image. You will always have a place on the TARDIS. This is your home. Your home is with me." As the the words poured into him and the Doctor's touch washed over him, Jack's head fell back into the Doctor's shoulder. "You're mine Jack. _My_ Jack, my companion."

The Doctor's lips fell upon his neck then. Skin was teased, bitten and sucked, marking him as the Doctor's. His own hands left the wall, and gripped at the Doctor's clothing. Anything just to touch him, to feel him. He could feel the Doctor's hearts beat at his back, luring him, pulling at him as the Doctor's lips did the same to his skin.

He was in love with the Doctor. And the TARDIS is his home.

 

-fin


End file.
